In Between
by Bug Evans
Summary: John and Joss are many things but they're not a couple, so why do they act like one? What will make Joss change her mind and give in to her heart's demands? How can a simple kiss potentially affect their already precarious balance? Set during S3E3 "Lady Killer" possible spoilers if you haven't seen the episode. Careese because I don't know any better. At least 2 chapters.
1. Three Little Words

**A/N: I've been writing this since after _Lady Killer_ aired, it could have been done and posted long ago if it weren't for a certain event I'd rather not talk about which dampened my mood and creativity for a long time (Carter's death, I'm totally talking about her death). Anyway, now that I'm inspired and almost finished writing the second chapter, I thought I should go ahead and share it. Thanks to CarolinaGirl aka big sis for the beta work and mostly for putting up with my whining when I'm (and when I'm not) writing. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with.**

* * *

Joss's heart was beating faster and faster. A rush of adrenaline hit her body like a tsunami wave. She was scared, anxious. Her heart was racing, pounding, threatening to rip out of her chest and spill onto the ground. She mentally cursed herself for not having a better access to her weapon. She knew Fusco and John—wherever the hell he was—had her back, but she also knew how quick a predator could be. She quickened her pace, hoping to ditch her tail or at least put enough distance between them to give her time to retrieve her gun without putting herself in danger. Fusco's voice came booming in her earpiece, slightly startling her.

"He's still on your tail so don't go home, okay?"

"Where am I supposed to go, Fusco?" She hated her tone. She hated that she was so on edge, but it was true. Where else was she supposed to go?

She spotted a black SUV in front of her and walked faster. If she could make it there she could take off her heels, walk around the vehicle, and run back to the club where she could catch a cab. She turned around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the possible 'lady killer' and evaluate the distance between them, but he disappeared. Gone. Yet, she didn't feel relieved. Her senses were on high alert.

She bumped into a chest. Hard. She gasped, bringing her hand up in self-defense. The man she bumped into was quick to wrap his fingers around her slender wrist as she looked up to get a good look at him.

"Are you okay?" She brought her hand to her chest, relieved to see the person she bumped into was John. She was safe now.

"Yes. I'm good." She turned around to find Fusco walking towards them. "Where did he go?" She asked him.

"I saw the guy disappear up the street. Safe to say if he was looking for his next victim, he found her." Fusco's eyes bore into her but she didn't notice; she was too busy looking at John.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Fusco was right. She couldn't go home. Taylor was at a friend's house, but she still couldn't risk going home and lead their new case to her apartment. She couldn't go to her mom's either; it could endanger her as well.

"It's okay, Fusco. I'm taking her home," John said while never taking his eyes off of Joss.

Fusco nodded, glad to be able to finally go home and sleep. He didn't have to worry about Joss. She was safe with Wonder Boy. "Call me if you need anything, partner," he told her.

"Thank you, Fusco." Joss gave him a tired smile. She, unlike the bane of his existence, at least had the decency to turn and look at him if only for a few seconds before she locked eyes with John again. Fusco gave them one last glance relieved that he wouldn't get choked by the thick sexual tension emanating from the two. It was maddening really how they chose to ignore their feelings for one another and yet managed to be more in tune than most married couples.

Joss and John walked in silence. She watched as he turned his phone off and took his earpiece out. She did the same with hers and dumped it in her purse. They continued to walk in silence for a long moment, each of them contemplating what to say to the other. Joss knew she had been putting distance between them. She knew she was emotionally withdrawing from him.

She needed time.

She needed time to gather her thoughts. Time to get her life back on track. With her adrenaline crashing down, she began to feel exhaustion overtaking her. She wished she could snap her fingers and end up in her bed. The light breeze made her shiver, prompting John to wrap his suit jacket around her shoulders. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her small frame swallowed by his oversized jacket. She smiled back at him, thankful for the added warmth.

"Shouldn't you be walking your girlfriend home, instead of me?"

"Not my girlfriend and she has a driver."

"You take her on dates and buy her gifts. She _is_ your girlfriend." She playfully bumped her shoulder to his arm. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you Joss, but Zoe's not my girlfriend."

"You might wanna tell her that." They settled back into a comfortable silence.

Joss was happy John decided to walk her home, but her feet were killing her and walking proved to be a little more tedious than it should. She knew if she just fessed up about her achy feet, he would insist that they take a cab. But they would get to her apartment much too soon and part ways; she didn't want that. What she wanted from John she couldn't have and even if she could she wasn't ready for it, so she settled. She settled for the in between: the friendship, the flirting, the occasional touches when they thought no one was watching, and the emotional attachment. Often she wondered if John was aware of the non-relationship relationship they had. More than once she was taken aback by how much of a couple they appeared to be at times and how natural it seemed.

"Shaw seemed to like you."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" She laughed.

"Let's say she's more comfortable with Bear and firearms."

"Is this a required characteristic to work for Finch?" She teased.

"Maybe." He smiled at her.

They were a block away from her place. Her feet were hurting so much she didn't realize how much she'd slowed down her pace until she noticed John was a little ahead of her now. She almost had to run to close the gap between them, which she regretted doing as soon as she slowed down again. Joss was weighing the pros and cons of taking off her shoes and walking the rest of the way barefoot until she decided holding John's arm and leaning into him was a better option. Not that it magically made the hurt disappear, but it was comforting.

They were always pushing for more without crossing the line. They never kissed, never slept together. In her mind that's where she drew the line, to avoid complications. Deep down she knew it was an excuse. The complications were already there. From whatever angle one would look at it, their 'thing'—for lack of a better way to describe whatever this was—had complicated written all over it.

They would hang out with Taylor, with the rest of the team, or just the two of them. They would go out for drinks, lunch, or dinner but would never call it a date. As long as they didn't cross the line or label things, they didn't have to deal with it. There were no real consequences other than the feeling of emptiness that lived with her when he left or the jealousy she felt when Zoe was brought up.

Joss never saw Zoe as tangible competition. She knew that, much like herself, John wasn't ready to deal with whatever they had going on, but she couldn't tame the spark of jealousy that ignited anytime Zoe was around or even mentioned. Joss knew the woman was nothing more than a friend with benefit to John and she was jealous of the 'benefit' part of the deal. All around Joss was a confident person. She was confident in her job as a cop and as a single mother but also in her femininity. Yet when it came to John, she sometimes felt insecure. She would doubt herself. She wasn't sure if John found her desirable. He'd never had an attitude that suggested he did and looking at Zoe and Jessica, Joss knew she wasn't his type.

Finally, they arrived at her brownstone. She opened the door to her building and John followed close behind her as she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. Soon, she would be able to take off her shoes and get some much needed sleep. But there was John, with whom she wanted to stay tonight. She knew she was the one to blame for the lack of time they spent together since she was the one distancing herself. Still, that didn't mean she didn't miss him and didn't want to spend time with him. She could ask him to stay, but she was scared of the possible rejection. What if he threw her detached attitude in her face? What if he turned her down in favor of Zoe? To be honest, she would understand if he did. Surely the perspective of a night of sex with a leggy blonde was more interesting than sleeping on a mildly comfortable couch or in her son's room.

She sighed. Whenever John was concerned she always ended up battling with herself, pulling up the confident woman and shoving down the insecure teenage girl she once was.

"Tired?" John's voice was soft and velvety.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Aren't you?" John moved forward and lightly touched her hand with the tips of his fingers.

"It doesn't matter because I'm not going to sleep."

Joss shot him a questioning look. "Oh... Are you going to stake out Ian Murphy's place?" She opened the door to her apartment and turned around to look at him.

"No. I'm staying here." John said as he pushed past her and entered her living room. "I'll take the couch."

Joss knew there was no need for further discussion. John had made his decision. She didn't want to discuss it either; she was glad he decided to stay and she was too exhausted to pick a fight. She closed her door and put her keys away in the ceramic bowl placed on the dark cherry wood console near her door before taking off her heels, and released a sigh of relief and gratitude. She winced a little at the couple steps she took, her feet still raw from all the dancing and walking she had done. She just wanted two things now: take off her dress and pass out in her bed. But first she needed to convince John to catch some much needed sleep. She wasn't about to throw him out. No… she really wanted him to stay.

"You know, he's not gonna come for me tonight, right? If something has to happen it will be tomorrow."

"I'm not leaving, Joss."

"I know. I'm not asking you to. You can stay." She paused and smiled at his surprised look. "Just go to bed. Sleep, like normal people do when they're tired. Taylor's room is free. I don't have anything for you to sleep in, I'm afraid, but make yourself comfortable."

Joss chastised herself for this particular choice of wording. Now she couldn't help but imagine John in next to nothing, sprawled on a bed—preferably on hers. She could see John wanted to protest but she wouldn't let him. He needed sleep and so did she. As far as she was concerned the case was closed.

"What? Taylor's room is more comfortable than that old couch."

"I'm not going to sleep Joss," he said in his low menacing tone which just served to arouse her.

"Fine." Joss crossed her arms under her chest. He was stubborn and usually she'd give him a run for his money but she was too tired to even consider it. "The TV remote's in front of you, there's leftovers in the fridge. Feel free to look through the cupboards if you need something. Taylor's room is over there..." She pointed in the general direction of her son's room before catching his annoyed glance, "...just in case you change your mind. If you need anything I will be in here." She pointed to her bedroom door.

Why did she feel the need to tell him that? It sounded like an open invitation to come look for her at any given chance. And maybe that's what she wanted; for him to come in her room, her sanctuary. She couldn't deny how bad she wanted to take the next step, claim what was already rightfully hers in nearly every way but she refused to do so. She held back. If they crossed that line one of them will get hurt—if not both. She wasn't ready to give him more than what they shared for now. She had too much on her plate and kept too much from him to even consider a healthy relationship with John. He would come between her and her vendetta—that was something she didn't want. It was too late for him to show concern and a will to help her out, she decided.

Heels in hand she strolled to her bedroom, eager to sleep but still hoping, despite herself, that John would follow. She entered her room leaving the door wide open, threw her heels in her closet grabbed an over sized tee to sleep in and took a quick look at the HR board she created, before closing the sliding doors in case John decided to come in her room after all. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask questions; for him to be here for her this time. Because detaching herself from him, letting him in the dark and assuring herself he wasn't here to help, made it easier for her to deal with her new found dark side. What was one more secret between them at this point?

She leaned on her door and peered into her living room. John was still sitting on her couch, he hadn't moved an inch. She was relieved, but disappointed. If she took a second more to think about it part of her felt rejected. She was very confused because until now she didn't know she could equally feel disappointment and relief nor that she could feel rejected for something she never asked or made clear she wanted.

"Good night, John." She closed her door before he could say anything back.

Joss stood by her bed and stripped off her dress before throwing it, aiming for the hamper. The tight leather dress hung on the edge—halfway in, halfway out, depending on how one chose to look at it—leaving an amiss splash of burgundy color in her blue toned room. Blue was calming; blue was serene. It reminded her of the sea, the calming sound of the waves gently kissing the shore on a summer day.

The dress was the only thing out of place, the only disorder. Normally she would have walked to the hamper on her way to the bathroom and put the dress inside it, but this time she was too tired, too lazy, and didn't have the heart to pretend she could bother with the effort. _Tomorrow's another day_, she thought.

She covered her naked body—her dress was so tight that wearing underwear was out of the question—with the oversized tee she'd kept in her hand, ran her fingers through her hair, and let out a long sigh. The exhaustion she felt just moments ago was slowly seeping out leaving place to anxiety. For weeks now she'd been having nightmares. She was anxious to sleep because she knew she'd have to fight off her old demons as soon as the light went out and sleep overtook her. She flipped the switch on the wall and immediately turned on the lamp on her bedside table. She pushed the heavy comforter and slipped between the sheets, welcoming the soft material on the bits of bare skin not covered by the shirt. She tossed and turned, pointlessly rearranged the covers and tried to find the perfect position to sleep in dreading the moment she would have to close her eyes and finally sleep. She was fighting it with every fiber of her body, until she eventually gave up and gave in to Morpheus.

* * *

_Her breath was labored. She had been running until she found cover in a dismantled building. Several bullets grazed her and she could feel the material of her police uniform clinging to her stinging wounds, sticking to her inflamed skin by the blood that oozed at each movement she made. Her arm, her thigh, and her shoulder were burning, but she knew she had to push through. As she walked further into the building an acrid smell invaded her nose and burnt her lungs with each labored breath she took. She wanted to turn around to see if she finally managed to get rid of her enemies, but every time she did that in the past dreams, a bullet came lodging in her brain._

_Faced with a brick wall, she looked for an exit, any way to keep going. There was a narrow path on her left. Against her better judgment she decided to take it. As she walked down the narrow path, the __acre__ acrid smell intensified. She fought the urge to heave and covered her mouth and nose with her hand. At the end of the path, there was a broken wooden door. It was ajar and a dim yellow light filtered through it. Despite every fiber of her body telling her not to go there she had to. There was no other way out of this place and if she turned around she was sure to die. Once again she pushed through._

_She took a deep breath before entering the room. A vaguely familiar voice seeped into her ear. The voice was that of a man, frightened, demanding protection, imploring not to make him tell 'them' where the explosives were. "For our kids," she heard before a gun was fired. The bullet missed her head and was stopped by the brick wall._

_Joss ran out of the room, pushing the broken door open only to hear it shut with the loud and distinct thump of a heavy steel door. She stopped running and stood in place at the sound of it and looked at her surroundings. The dimly lit room looked like a bunker. The acrid smell was stronger than ever before. She started pacing the room looking for an exit when the voices she heard before became louder. She followed the voices, intrigued by the few words she could hear, a feeling of déjà vu settling in her. She was led to a smaller room and saw herself in her army uniform interrogating Yusef. From afar Joss watched herself convincing the man to tell them where the explosives were. She took a step forward to enter the room. She needed to stop this; she needed to find a way to really protect him this time. As she moved closer to the interrogating table she realized something was wrong. Yusef turned to her with a clean bullet wound in his head._

"_For our kids," he said._

_The ground shook, violently throwing Joss against the stone wall. Once she retrieved her bearings, she was in the middle of nowhere. It was freezing cold and the ground was covered with snow. She could hear barking. Another shot was fired and once again, it missed her and the bullet ended its race in the bark of an oak. She ran in the general direction of the barking. She came to a stop when she saw Bear frantically digging and herself crouched over the muddy and snowy soil digging too. The acrid smell took her by surprise and was so overwhelming she nearly vomited again._

_Suddenly, her breath hitched in her throat. It felt as though she was being choked. She watched as a hand covered in rotting flesh wrapped tightly around her neck, its bones digging deep into her skin. She tried to scream to divert the corpse's attention away from the dream version of herself and buy some time to fight back, but it was too late. She watched helplessly as her body was dragged in the cold hole from which Stills rose, only to bury her alive in the makeshift tomb. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She could only watch._

"_Tick tock, Officer. You don't have much time." The smell of rotten flesh got to her. "You can either save yourself or try to save one of them." She looked in the direction Stills was pointing and her heart stopped._

_There were two wide open doors. One was to the building in which Cal Beecher was killed and the other was to the DOD facility in which John had a bomb vest strapped to his chest. She had three possibilities. She could either dig up her own body and save herself or choose to save Cal or John._

"_Which will it be?" Without an ounce of hesitation she ran to the door where John was, only to relive what happened that day. There was nothing she could do to save him. Despite how much she tried to convince him, he wouldn't let her get him out of the vest. When he turned to go on the roof she couldn't stop the scream that came from her._

"_No! John!" He turned around, the minutes on the countdown of the phone turning into seconds. "Please, don't. I can get you out of this. Just let me."_

"_We're out of time, Detective." The countdown on the phone blinked several times. 5...4...3...2...1. It was over. There was nothing she could do. The explosion threw her on the ground with force. He was gone._

* * *

Joss felt something warm and wet on her face and her eyes snapped open. Gone. He was gone. She looked around taking in her surroundings, slowly remembering where she was and what happened. She was safe in her room, in her bed. She told herself it was just a nightmare. Yes, it was more intense that those she usually had, but a nightmare nonetheless. Nothing that happened was real. John was still alive. As a matter of fact, he was in her living room, just a room away from her. _What if he isn't? What if he's gone?_ A little voice nagged her. She climbed out of bed and went to the living room. Her TV was on, but she didn't bother to look what was playing. Her mind was focused on finding John who was not in the room. She moved through her apartment, calling for him. She could hear her voice crack every time she called his name and he didn't answer.

"Sorry, I was in the bathroom…" He stopped when he saw her standing there crying. "What's wrong?"

Joss let out the breath she was holding. She felt stupid for reacting like this. She knew it had been a nightmare and nothing else, so why did she feel the need to run to him? See if he was still here when she knew he was? She slightly turned away from him to wipe away her tears.

"Nothing. It's stupid, really." She gave him a smile or what she hoped looked like one before going back in her room. Joss sat on the edge of her bed. She was still exhausted, even more so after this very upsetting nightmare but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She took a quick glance at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was 5:00 am. Sleeping was pointless now. Several minutes later, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She got up to open and let John in. He was carrying two mugs of hot cocoa with him. The rich chocolate aroma tingled her senses.

"I figured you'd need that."

"Thanks." Joss took the mug John gave her. "I'm fine, John." She took a sip of her beverage, welcoming the rich flavor of the chocolate on her tongue and its warmth in her body. It was comforting. John sat next to her on her bed and took a sip out of his own mug before talking.

"So you keep saying. You know you can talk to me, right?" A faint smile ghosted his lips. For a second she got lost in his imploring blue eyes. He would never explicitly ask her to talk to him if she wasn't ready, but he sure tried hard to coerce her into doing so with his damn puppy eyed look. Joss was convinced he was eligible to win some sort of award for being so patient and understanding with her. She knew she couldn't keep him waiting forever. At some point decisions will have to be made.

They never put into words what they felt for one another. They didn't have to because they already knew. She didn't ask him to wait for her, it just sort of happened. It was a tacit agreement between the two, a silent vow. While Joss was the discreet one in their 'non-relationship relationship'—she learned to tune out her showing feelings for him after the Rikers incident—John was the most demonstrative.

He didn't care who knew she was important to him as long as they knew, and he went out of his way to make sure they did know. No one shall hurt Joss Carter or they would have to answer to John Reese. For that reason, she knew it must be hard for him to let her take down HR alone. She knew he must be on pins and needles not being able to protect her from every bad guy lurking around. She also knew this was part of the reason why he decided to stay tonight and why he was so wary of her date with Ian. She sat down her cup on her bedside table, took John's out of his hands and placed it next to hers before turning slightly towards him and taking his big hands in her much smaller ones. He was surprised she could tell.

"Thank you." She didn't know what she was thanking him for exactly. It could have been for (almost) always being there for her, for being patient, for being a great friend, or maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, he seemed to understand as he held her tearful gaze and just nodded.

The air between them was thick, electric. Both wanted to make the first move but neither wanted to break the tacit promise that had been made. So they stared at each other, his hands still in Joss' until it became too uncomfortable to bear. John cleared his throat, effectively breaking the spell.

"Have a good night Joss," he said as he rose from the bed. He kissed her forehead, lingering there a little longer than he should have, not wanting to let go. She moved swiftly to grab his hand again before he had a chance to exit the room. John pretended he hadn't seen the black cotton of her shirt going up several inches, dangerously revealing her thighs, tempting him with her smooth skin at the sudden motion. Just like he tried to pretend he wasn't affected by her touch or that he didn't want to make love to her in her queen sized bed.

Joss was sure what she was about to ask would blur the lines they'd drawn for themselves even more. "Stay. I know you said you wouldn't sleep, but you don't have to. Just stay with me. Please?"

"I'll be right back."

John picked up the two mugs on his way out. Joss swore she couldn't go back to sleep after that nightmare; she wasn't that tired anymore. She realized that what kept her up now wasn't the remnants of her bad dreams clinging to her subconscious, but dirty thoughts making themselves known. Thoughts she needed to quiet down really fast before things got out of hand. So she got back under the covers and tried to find a position natural enough for her to sleep in and not suggestive. The last thing she wanted was for John to think she asked him to stay here so she could jump his bones. She was aware he wouldn't mind such an outcome—neither did she to be quite honest—but they couldn't afford to complicate things. Or so she kept telling herself. When John came back, he set his phone and his gun on the other bedside table before kicking his shoes off and discarding his clothes. Finally, he settled himself next to her in the bed, mindful not to cross any more boundaries.

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"Washed the cups and made sure everything was secure." He didn't bother mentioning the pep talk he had to give himself in the bathroom in order to prepare himself to share a bed with her without crossing the line, or the several splashes of cold water it took to cool him down.

"You know he is not coming for me tonight, right?"

"Aren't you supposed to sleep?"

"Get some sleep too, John." Joss turned around to look at him. He was sitting, his back and head resting against her headboard and he was looking down at her with his trademark smirk clinging to his lips. She loved to hate it and hated that she loved it so much.

"Joss..." He let out with a warning in his voice. They'd discuss it earlier. She knew how stubborn he could be but so was she. She wasn't about to let this go. It was ridiculous for him to deprive himself of much needed sleep when he knew nothing bad would happen tonight.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You're already in bed anyway, may as well sleep in it. Besides, what's the plan if he does show up? You're gonna greet him with your smirk, your gun, and..." She lifted the covers to take a look at what he was wearing. She had a half-naked man in her bed; a man she couldn't touch so she might as well take a good look at him while she still could. "In your boxer-briefs?" She yawned, settled deeper into the covers, and slowly started to drift back to sleep.

"Precisely." She chuckled. "Goodnight." When she didn't answer he figured she was already asleep, so he risked it and told her what he wanted to tell her for a long time now. He let the words roll out of his tongue, confident that she couldn't hear them and if she could she would never process them.

"I love you, Joss."

"Me too." She mumbled in her slumber.

* * *

**A/N: Me again, glad to see you made it here. I just wanted to address a couple of things.**

**1. I will be finishing Meddling Machine and Revelation, I just don't know when. Writing MM's last chapter has been a roller coaster of f***ery, basically anything and everything that could go wrong, went wrong. **

**2. Some people noticed and asked about it so I'm gonna address it here, I've deleted Never Too Much because I plan on cleaning it up a bit. It was my first fic, I didn't know what I was doing or getting myself into but now that I know, I feel like it needs to be cleaned up a bit (a lot actually). So it will be re-uploaded at some point. As for the sequel I had talked about it won't be written. However I do have one or two fics in store.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Over The Line

Two hours of sleep. That's all she got. Joss was still tired, but there was no way she could go back to sleep; not with John snoring sounding like a truck right next to her, anyway. She had no idea when he finally fell asleep, but the snoring was what woke her up. She smiled to herself in her freshly brewed cup of coffee. She liked that she got to discover new quirks of his and honestly, she could get used to waking up like this every morning. Especially if it meant waking up in his arms, as she did this morning much to her surprise.

She took a sip of her coffee, grateful for the much needed fuel. She'll most likely need ten of these today to keep up. _But keep up with what?_ she wondered.

She knew John would follow her around today. He'd probably have Shaw _and_ Fusco keep tabs on her. Her plan to follow Laskey and any other HR goons would have to be pushed back to a time when John would be busy with a number that didn't involve her so closely. She thought about giving him the slip for a few hours to go check up on Elias and see if he had any intel on the Russians. That meant no phone. No phone meant he had no way to contact her and couldn't track her down and discover her dirty little secrets. The last thing she needed to deal with was John tearing up the town looking for her because he was worried, or an extensive interrogation about her whereabouts. She couldn't lie to him; not to his face and certainly not after his confession.

She was taken aback by her own response at first. It came out so naturally, as though it was a habit. Truthfully, it took her a moment to realize what happened. Once she did realize, however, it kept her awake for a while. She acted like a coward and pretended she was deep in sleep, mostly because she was scared of the consequences the opening of this Pandora box would bring. A part of her was sure he'd never meant for her to hear it, much less for her to respond.

A knock on the door broke her reverie. The members of Team Super Spy sure were early risers. She wondered which one had been commissioned by John to look after her. The knocks grew louder and more impatient which was a dead giveaway to who was on the other side. Joss practically ran to the door. She didn't want John to be awakened by the obnoxious noise, much less allow Shaw to get the wrong idea if he were to come out of her bedroom in his boxer briefs. She was already onto them; it wouldn't take a lot to feed her theories. Joss flung the door open to greet the petite woman.

"Good morning. You know patience is a virtue, Shaw." She grinned but was only met by the permanent scowl on the brunette's face. Shaw pushed past her to enter, scanned the room before plopping herself unceremoniously onto the couch. Thank god John was in her room, Joss thought, or else things could have been awkward.

"Sure Shaw, come on in. Make yourself at home." Again, Joss's sarcasm was only met by Shaw's scowl. "Usually my guests say 'hello' when they come in. Then again they're usually invited."

"I'm your appointed babysitter," Shaw let out in her flat tone. "Finch sent me here. Something about me arriving first got me the job but—"

"But you don't want to be here," Joss finished for her.

"_But_," Shaw continued, "John will kick me out as soon as he gets here." She paused and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Joss. "If he isn't here already."

Joss smiled. Since the night before, Shaw was hell-bent on figuring out just what was going on between her and John. Although Joss had to admit, she thought Zoe's many allusions about the seriousness of her relationship with John had served to undermine Shaw's determination. It sure had undermined hers and her spirit, until John assured her there was nothing serious between them.

Shaw rose from the couch and headed for the door. When she turned around to speak to Joss her scowl was replaced by a smirk. "See you tonight, Carter. I'll tell Finch you're in good hands."

* * *

It was well past nine in the morning when John emerged from the bedroom in his usual black and white uniform, except for his vest that he carelessly tossed on the back of Joss's couch on his way to the kitchen. He found Joss sitting at the table, reading a book, and eating breakfast. She hadn't heard him come in the room and let out a surprised yelp when he pressed a kiss on her temple. He'd pressed his lips quickly to her skin. He hadn't lingered, yet somehow the gesture felt more intimate than a quick kiss on the lips. She looked at him dumbfounded as he motioned around her kitchen with a certain familiarity. He pulled out a plate and some cutlery before taking a serving of scrambled eggs and bacon all the while not acknowledging her.

She momentarily forgot about her book as her eyes were trained on John, following his every move. To an outsider, it looked like a well-known routine, an everyday occurrence. The way he was acting, so at ease and confident in her space, belied the fact that he wasn't accustomed to roam around her kitchen and do things. She figured he must have observed her every time he came over for their weekly Saturday dinners with Taylor—and sometimes the rest of the crew—or from the couple of times she asked him to get her something from the kitchen while she was busy entertaining the guests, and Taylor had either vanished in his room or was out with friends.

The first time she'd invited John for dinner, she recalled, was after he'd saved her son from Elias's blood stained hands. The decision to introduce John to Taylor in a more formal manner hadn't been hard for her to make. He'd saved her son—her baby—and Taylor wanted to know everything about the "bad ass" who worked with her. So she obliged, picked up her phone, and called. She'd been so nervous at the idea of cooking for him Taylor had picked up on it and teased her about it the entire day. At the time, she liked to believe she was nervous because she felt like a simple dinner to thank him wasn't enough, which was true in a sense, only now she knew better. The nervousness came from letting him in her home, a place she fiercely guarded from everyone else like a dragon guards a princess's tower. It also came from the realization that she trusted him like she never trusted anyone before.

The second time was after they got back from Texas. Finch was traumatized and had a hard time going out in the open. He wasn't the same, which worried John. Joss quickly came to the realization John was also traumatized by the ordeal. He walked around like a lost puppy in need of a new master. He missed a certain sense of normalcy in his life; something stable to cling to when everything came crashing down around him. Of course, the knight in shining armor in her had to step up and do something for him. That's when the weekly dinners started.

When he came to look for her after Finch was kidnapped, she dismissed it as him needing the help of a cop rather than a friend. John had broken into her home and asked for her help in resolving a murder. Little did she know the first time she let him in, that he was like a vampire; once he was invited to cross the threshold, he'd come back whenever he felt like it until he wasn't welcomed anymore. It was only later, when he came back to her house—by breaking in, _again_—that she understood he came to her not only because he sought the help of a Homicide Detective, but also the comfort of a friend. He placed the very little bit of trust he allowed himself to have in her. She carefully handled it, scared to break it somehow or to disappoint him.

They'd already established their weird 'together-but-not-really-together' dynamic, so when she started dating Beecher, things became complicated. Her feelings for the Man in the Suit were proving to be harder to ignore and conceal, something that felt odd the moment she felt guilt. She didn't know whether she felt guilty because she had the impression of cheating on John, which was ridiculous, or because it felt like she was lying to Cal. So when John admitted to listening in on her date, she cringed, voiced her discomfort, and talked about setting some boundaries. Something he had found very amusing. Until he realized just how serious she was.

Nevertheless, the weekly dinners remained and he'd never missed one up to the Riker's fiasco.

Sadness clouded her features at the bad memories, something that didn't go unnoticed by John. He reached out, put his hand on her knee, and squeezed lightly to get her attention.

"You OK?" he asked while rubbing his thumb on the side of her knee.

"Sure. Yeah, I'm─"

"Fine," he finished for her. They held each other's gaze, neither of them really sure of where this conversation was going. He knew she wouldn't tell him what was going on and she, on the other hand, didn't want him to feel shut out. "I need to call Finch. He must be worried by now."

"He already knows you're here." He shot her a surprised look. There was no doubt Finch had an array of means to track down John; they both were well aware of it. However, there was no way Joss could have known Finch was aware of John's whereabouts unless she'd come in contact with him.

His mind was reeling; she could make out the tell-tale signs signifying he was thinking. She loved to watch him think. During those moments, she often found herself overtaken with affection towards him. The way he slightly furrowed his brows, the way he'd rub his cheek or brush his finger to his lips unconsciously and his pout were a combination she deemed adorable. Sure, "adorable" was not the first word that came to mind when talking about John Reese, or even the last. Intense. Intimidating. Brooding. Those were words easily associated with him. But the John she knew, the one she believed to be the real John, was funny, loving, caring, patient, and understanding, among many other qualities. Some of the things he said and did were adorable; heart melting, 'aww' inducing adorable, albeit she'd never tell him that.

"Shaw?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. Joss suspected he just wanted her to give him an explanation.

"Shaw," she confirmed.

She reached for her coffee cup. It was her third one since she got up, yet she still felt like going back to sleep. She was in such a perpetual state of exhaustion and the caffeine seemed to take longer to affect her brain. She took a long pull of the liquid and made a face when the cold brew hit her tongue. John watched with amusement as she stared at the liquid with furrowed brows—the crease above which let him know she felt some kind of way about this deceit—as if she was trying to reheat it with the power of her mind. She stood up to pour the content of the cup down the drain.

After a couple of years of observing her, he knew how particular she was with her coffee. She liked it freshly brewed; black with cream and no sugar. If the coffee in the pot was cold, then it wasn't up to her standards. She hated to microwave her coffee, something about the taste not being the same, and would give you the cutest judgmental look. Of course John would never tell her he thought her judgmental look was cute.

"Anyway, Shaw came by a little over an hour ago. She said Finch sent her since she'd arrived first. She figured you were already here so she left." She refilled their mugs with fresh coffee, placed his cup in front of him, and settled back down on her chair.

"What made her think I was here?" As far as he could remember, there was no evidence he was here since the night before.

Joss shrugged. "She seems to think there's something between us. So does everyone else."

"Who is 'everyone else'?" He was intrigued. No one, other than Taylor during a one-on-one basketball game, ever broached the subject with him.

"Um...Taylor, Fusco, _Zoe_," she paused. There were certainly more people on the list, like Elias and his Lieutenant, Marconi, but she figured it would be better to keep that to herself. "Finch never said anything about it. Probably never will, not to me at least, but I'm pretty sure he thinks so too. Hard not to if we're being honest."

"What did Zoe tell you?"

"Your wife?" she teased, remembering the first time they were introduced. "Nothing of substance really. It was more how she acted."

"How?" he asked, surprised.

"Really, John? I thought you had eyes everywhere." She laughed. "Off the top of my head, she tried to melt my face off with a taser you bought her. She also told us that you were 'committed' to each other." John scowled a bit and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He'd realized not too long ago that Zoe's attitude had changed after he'd made the mistake of answering one of Joss's calls in front of her; something he'd never done before. He never hid the fact he was seeing Zoe to Joss, but he always made sure Zoe never found out more about Joss other than they work together from time to time.

John was protective of his relationship with Joss, even more so after he came to terms with the fact he was in love with her. There was something weird about talking with the woman you slept with, about the woman you love. So he never bothered to elaborate on who Joss was to him. Besides, Zoe was an intelligent woman. He knew she'd eventually figure it out.

However that night, in the heat of the moment, he forgot about his rule. He hadn't heard from Joss the entire day and since he was worried about her, he was too eager to talk to her rather than let the call go through voicemail and call back later like usual. Not only did he answer in her presence, but he was in Zoe's apartment…in her bed. She left to get a glass of water after the third time he inquired if Joss was okay and if she needed anything.

After that, Zoe became more open with him. She talked about her work and she even shared a story about how she almost got mugged. Luckily, her new driver was able to scare off the perpetrator. She brushed his concern off and said it was nothing. Just a New York thing; it happened often, just not to her.

"Worse happened to me. That's how we met, remember?" she had said.

He may not be in love with her, but he still cared about her and he appreciated her attempt to reassure him. In retrospect, he wondered now if it was a test to see if he'd go after the guy. If Joss had been mugged, no pickpocket in town would have a use for their kneecaps. He supposed if it had been a test, he failed miserably, since all he did was buy her a taser in the hope she could defend herself if need be. Little did he know the first time she'd use it would be next to Joss's beautiful face. It was now obvious. He needed to talk with Zoe in order to end things quickly.

"And Taylor, what did he say? About whatever this is, I mean." Joss smiled at his use of her own words to describe their relationship.

"He thinks we're 'endgame' and that I could do worse. Don't act like he didn't talk to you about it, I know he did." She smacked his arm playfully when he gave her his best innocent look.

"Busted, huh?" He raised an eyebrow and laughed. She tried to keep a straight face, holding back a grin, but soon she could no longer hold in her own laughter.

Although she'd heard him laugh before, she decided he didn't laugh enough. She loved the sound of it, the way it made his blue eyes shine and the smile that lingered behind for a few seconds. But then he grew serious, like now, and she felt the warmth his laugh produced in her sip out, replaced by a sense of dread. That's when she usually remembered John wasn't a happy man. He had his moments, few and far between, but it never lasted. She wondered if she could do something about it, be the person to break this pattern. Or would the restraint he put on his happiness eventually shut her out? She had been scared of a lot of things in the past ─ still was ─ but never had she been scared the reason she could lose a man would be because she loved him too much.

"I'm just waiting for you, Joss. I'll wait as long as you need me to."

Breathless. She felt breathless. He stunned her. She was stunned by his patience. Any other man would have moved on by now. Any other man would have labeled her as "the one who got away", but not John. For a brief moment she wondered if she was wrong, if in the end she'd end up losing him. Not because she loved him too much, but because he loved her with equal intensity.

John was prone to self-destruction and self-sacrifice. She'd seen it first-hand. Not a trait you'd look for in a guy. The chances of a relationship with him ending badly were high and the reasons diverse. Yet, she knew those were all excuses designed to protect herself. She was already in love, whether she did something about it or not and she'd be equally devastated if anything terrible were to happen to him.

She had these constant glimpses of what life with him could be like. She already had a foot in the door, as they say, and she liked what she saw. She liked how it felt and she wanted this. She wanted more conversations around breakfast. She wanted to hear him laugh more. She wanted to wake up in his arms and fight with him because he doesn't want to sleep. She wanted hot chocolate to help her relax after a nightmare and more good morning kisses on her temple. She wanted to step over the line. She was tired of pushing for more.

She wanted more. She needed more.

Joss didn't know if it was because he said he loved her, or because she let him know she did too, but something had changed in her.

* * *

**A/N: There will be a chapter 3. I don't know when, but it's coming.**


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